


marriage is not a house or even a tent

by possibilityleft



Category: Original Work
Genre: Characters getting married have very different cultural marriage customs, Cultural Differences, F/F, Fluff, Misunderstandings, Vague Nonmodern Setting, Wedding, Wedding Planning (kind of didn't happen)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:15:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28681686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/possibilityleft/pseuds/possibilityleft
Summary: Thea waited for her bride to arrive at dawn.  When she doesn't show, Thea is going to find out why.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Female Character
Comments: 8
Kudos: 13
Collections: Bulletproof 20/21





	marriage is not a house or even a tent

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Meatball42](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meatball42/gifts).



> The title is from Margaret Atwood's [Habitation](https://readalittlepoetry.wordpress.com/2011/01/07/habitation-by-margaret-atwood).

Thea knew she was early, but she hadn't been able to sleep. The moon was still high when she crept out of the house and down to the family tree. No one else was there yet -- not even her mother, who'd joked that she would get there first and use the extra time to get to know Thea's beloved better.

Her mom would get to know Lark soon enough, once they were all living together. That decision had almost been harder to make than the decision to get married. In a kingdom like this, Lark would still be "that new girl" for the next five years at least, the source of idle gossip for her "foreign" ways, even though she only lived in the next closest village. Their villages traded often enough that when Lark had come through, helping her father with the cloth he made and sold, that Thea had gotten to know her pretty quickly. It was only an hour's walk if they split the difference, which they often did, sneaking back into the cornfields to be alone.

Lark had come all the way to Thea's village on her own once, and met Thea at her family tree at sundown. They'd stood under it together, holding hands and kissing, Lark's hands warm on Thea's thigh. Lark wanted to see it before she'd commit to staying here. She rested her hand gently on the bark, tracing out the names that Thea's ancestors had carved when it came time for them to be married. Thea showed her the ones that she knew -- her parents, her mother's parents -- her father's parents were on their own tree, of course -- and up the line as high as she could reach, people whom Thea had never met or whose own trees had deviated so long ago that they couldn't be considered related.

Now, standing in the moonlight, Thea traced her space, where she and Lark would carve their names at dawn. Her sister had married a year ago and her carving still seemed as fresh and new as the baby in Brook's arms.

Thea waited impatiently as her family slowly trickled into view -- her mother did come first, looking surprised to see Thea alone, but trying to hide it. Then her father, her sisters, grandma, until they were all there waiting to see Lark, who might not be arriving until the break of dawn, depending on when she'd left. Perhaps traveling with her whole family in tow took longer than they'd anticipated. Thea could imagine the impatience on Lark's face, encouraging her father to pick up the pace, even though their horse was getting on in years, and really didn't travel any faster than she wanted to.

They waited, everyone chatting idly but Thea, who kept walking a little way down the path, hoping to see Lark, to run into her arms. She wanted to climb the tree, which of course was forbidden, but would give her a birds-eye view of the terrain, letting her know how far away Lark still was.

"Have patience," her grandmother said. The closer the sun came to rising, the less patience Thea had left. She paced in a circle as the sun rose and the conversation slowly died to whispers. She squeezed the hilt of her knife so hard it hurt. Thea knew they were talking about her. She couldn't focus. Lark was late. Why was she so late? They were supposed to start at sunup. She knew this was the correct day -- they'd arranged it ages ago, had been counting down together whenever they parted.

She hadn't seen Lark in three days. And on the third day, they were supposed to get married, and then they'd never be separate again. She swallowed past the lump in her throat, shoved her fist against the tears welling up that she couldn't stop.

Thea's mother put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently, and Thea pulled away.

"Why don't we go have breakfast?" her mother said, and Thea knew she was trying to be nice, but Thea's stomach was eating itself and she couldn't decide if she was going to sob or throw up or both.

"Go ahead," Thea said, and she started walking. She didn't look back or respond to any questions from the assembled relatives, letting the tree fade into the distance behind her before glancing back. She could just see the crown of leaves, beautiful and golden-green in the morning light.

By the time she could see Lark's village coming into view before her, her feet were aching but her tears were dry. She'd been to Lark's before a few times, of course, catching a ride back with them in the wagon, Lark promising to walk her halfway home, sometimes coming the whole way just because they couldn't stop talking.

For the first time, coming into the town, she wondered where they kept their family trees -- she didn't see a copse beyond the fields like there was in her town. There were trees everywhere, of course, but nothing carved into them, besides the occasional arrow or small sign, practically naked. It was midday now and plenty of people around, some who looked curiously at her when she passed, but she knew where she was going. Her heart was thumping in her throat as she knocked at the door.

She barely put her fist to it when it flew open and Lark rushed out, jumping into Thea's arms.

"Where were you?" Lark demanded. "My dad was so disappointed, he shined his favorite sword and everything, but you know he wouldn't really stab you, it's just for the look of the thing--"

"What? Where were you?" Thea managed, pulling back from Lark's grasp, confused. "It's been hours, I thought you were going to meet me--"

"But you asked _me_ , we were waiting up all night!" Lark protested.

"For what?" Thea said, and Lark sighed.

"I love you," Lark said. "Okay?"

Thea sniffled. "Yes," she said. "I love you," she added. "I'm just… confused."

"That makes two of us," Lark said, as another voice boomed from behind her.

"We thought you chickened out!" a man said, brandishing the biggest sword Thea had ever seen, and it was a testament to her love for Lark that Thea didn't turn and run, although she could feel her knees shake.

"Stop it, Dad," Lark said. "Thea and I are going to go talk and then you can pretend to fight."

"It's not as much fun that way," Lark's dad said, but he winked at Thea and said, "but I can make an exception for my daughter's beau."

Lark grabbed Thea's hand and dragged her away.

*

Neither of them had any way of knowing this, but back when men drew boundaries on maps and then sent out people to make them real, there'd been a line between them, and a stone wall that had long since crumbled. Villages close to each other shared customs, of course, they'd both loved sharing the longest day at the Midsummer festival in Lark's town, but it turned out, there were some deviations.

Lark's head was resting in Thea's lap. She had grass stains on her back, and Lark's family was definitely going to tease her about them, but that didn't matter for right now. Only the two of them mattered.

Lark threw her arm into the air, gesturing and almost clipping Thea's nose. "I can't believe you didn't know the story. Everyone in my village knows the story. The prince fought off thirty men to rescue his bride."

"It doesn't sound like rescuing so much as kidnapping," Thea said.

"Can it be kidnapping when it's willing? Anyway, so now whenever you get married you have to come to your lover's house and fight off her relatives for her honor and her hand. And you steal the horse they leave out for you and gallop away together to the future."

"They're going to give us a horse?" Thea said, distracted by this.

"We're going to steal it," Lark said firmly. "But yes, her name is Mara and I picked her last week. We have to be able to come back and visit, you know."

Thea stroked the side of Lark's face. "Of course." She told Lark about her family, waiting under the tree at dawn. Lark laughed, taken by the image, until she saw how hurt Thea was.

"I'm sorry," Lark said. "Maybe we should have coordinated. I mean, what if you had come here to look for my tree and didn't bring your sword?"

"I don't have a sword," Thea said. "Do I really need to fight your dad?"

"Just a little," Lark answered. "The last time anyone even bled really was when my cousin's ex showed up and my cousin told us she didn't want to go with him. But he just lost a finger."

Thea's eyes went wide.

"He cut it off himself, he thought she'd appreciate his bravery or something," Lark said, rolling her eyes. "Now everyone calls him Nine and it makes him so mad."

Thea looked up at the tree they were sitting under. It was tall with whippy branches, just a normal tree that didn't have anyone's family on it. She reached into her pocket and found the knife she'd planned to use this morning.

"What do you think about a spear?" she said, holding up the knife, and Lark grinned. Together, they cut a branch from the tree and carved a point.

Twenty minutes later, Lark's father and brothers groaned loudly in a dramatic pile, defeated each by a conk on the head, alternating between weakly waving their swords and shouting well-wishes. Thea swung up onto Mara's back and Lark was fast behind her, holding her hips. Thea slung the spear across her knees and kicked the horse into movement, which was slow at best, since the horse Lark had picked out had been their retired carthouse, and she kept to exactly one speed.

Thea's heart was pounding in her ears and she knew Lark was smiling. By the time they reached her village, it might be dark, but they could borrow a lantern and usher everyone out into the night for just a little bit. She could do that carving in her sleep.

As they left the village, Lark's hands were sliding up to touch her chest and she had another thought. They could just come back at dawn, build themselves a little bower in the meantime.

"I'll marry you again anytime," Lark said, her voice hot in Thea's ear, and Thea twisted around on the horse's back to kiss her wife.


End file.
